


I'm Fine

by SwallowsSong



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alex is very not happy, Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Angst?, Crying, Gen, James Blake is a dad, Sickfic, Spencer Reid Needs a Hug, Spencer Reid is a very unhappy child, themetaphorgirl's psolc AU, there's an OC in there if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:54:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26255995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwallowsSong/pseuds/SwallowsSong
Summary: In which Spencer is once again hiding the fact that he doesn't feel well.The Big Kid Squad conspires to play a sneaky game from James's "nerd-camp" to get their youngest to cooperate, but as most things do when you're seventeen, it blows up in their faces.It's okay though. James Blake is the dad no one expected him to be.
Comments: 16
Kudos: 148





	I'm Fine

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Patron Saint of Lost Causes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24442195) by [themetaphorgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/themetaphorgirl/pseuds/themetaphorgirl). 



> Big thanks to the wonderful, amazing, talented, Caitlin (themetaphorgirl) for letting me play in her sandbox!  
> Seriously. She's wonderful. Peep her tumblr for a good time.  
> This work is based in her Patron Saints AU (Patron Saint of Lost Causes), which is AMAZING and YOU SHOULD READ. The wold she's created is one of a kind.
> 
> P.S. If you squint closely, you might be able to find everyone's favorite FBI nurse from SCRC, because truly, I can never resist an OC. (Also Kit and James would get along SO WELL and no one can tell me otherwise)

In retrospect, they all should have seen it coming. It tended to start the same way. The eye rubbing always came first, as if the nine year old was trying to physically remove the discomfort sprouting there. Then there was the lack of chatter; the quiet that was so unlike their youngest member that even Emily and Dave started to get uneasy, instead of enjoying the fleeing silence. 

By the time he hit the stage of general grumpiness and irritability, everyone knew exactly what was going on. 

Spencer got sick all the time. It wasn’t new. It wasn’t surprising. 

It was, however, really starting to bother the Big Kids that he would vehemently deny, deny, deny until he was melting down, and someone was physically scraping him off the floor.

And that was how they found themselves having a pre-movie night “Big Kids” meeting in the lounge while Derek, Penelope, and JJ kept Spencer distracted. Their youngest had almost thrown a fit when Hotch had said that no, he couldn’t stay with them, and no, they couldn’t just pretend he wasn’t there. He’d been assured that Penelope needed him for a very special craft, and while he’d pouted and grumbled, he hadn’t melted down. Not yet.

“I can’t do this,” Emily said, toying with the bracelets on her arms. “I can’t tiptoe like this all the time.”

“It’s not all the time,” Hotch said defensively from his spot on the floor, “It’s just when he’s being… you know.” He gestured vaguely, making it very apparent he didn’t quite know himself. 

“When he doesn’t feel well,” Alex said gently, shifting her position on the couch to press closer to James. She hated when Spencer struggled, and judging by the way he’d become more and more irritable over the last two days, the weekend would be a struggle in and of itself. 

“He’s literally sick all the time!” Emily shot back. “I love him, you guys know I do, but really? He could say something before he’s a ticking time bomb of grumpy, crying illness.”

“I don't know,” Dave said from his place in the armchair, “He’s made it pretty clear he just wants to be left alone.”

“Yeah, and we see how well that goes,” she countered.

Hotch sighed loudly, running a hand down his face. Spencer had ended up in his bed the night before, sometime around three in the morning, and he’d been too tired to confront the issue then. He’d have done it once he woke up, but by that time the child was gone. 

It was made very clear at breakfast when Spencer denied that it had even happened that they were really in for it.

There was quiet between the five of them for a minute before James said thoughtfully, “Well. We could have him play.”

“Absolutely not,” Alex said as Dave quickly shook his head and said, “Not a chance.”

Hotch and Emily exchanged a look before Hotch looked to James.

“I’m lost. Play what?”

“There’s this game the three of us play called I’m Fine-”

“Spencer is way too smart for I’m Fine, Jamie.” Alex said, shifting away from him to look him full in the face.

James raised an eyebrow.

“You and Dave and I play I’m Fine. We have for years. He might be a genius, but no one is too smart for I’m Fine.”

“What the fuck are you all going on about?” Emily asked, arms crossing over her chest.

Dave chuckled quietly. “I’m Fine is a game James made us start playing Sophomore year that he learned from some girl at his nerd summer camp.”

“Hey!” James said, though he didn’t look offended. He was grinning. “Going to HOSA camp was cool! Kit taught it to our whole camp crew, and you guys _like_ I’m Fine, so don’t bash.”

“Please,” Hotch said, just a bit loudly. “Will someone explain this game? And how you think it’s going to help with the Spencer issue?”

The three seniors looked at each other for a moment before Alex gestured, sighing quietly.

“Go ahead, Jamie, but I don’t think it’s going to work.”

James already had a grin on his face.

“Okay! When I was at HOSA camp between Freshman and Sophomore year - shut up, Dave! - I was on a crew with the girl named Kit from Vermont. She was in the healthcare pathways track at her high school, and none of that is really all that important, but she taught us this game they play in her cadre.”

“Which,” Dave said, one finger held in the air to cut off James mid-thought, “Is objectively not actually a game.”

“It is a game!” James defended. “There is a winner and there’s a loser. And there’s rules. How is it not a game?”

“I don’t care!” Emily said, hands gesturing wildly in the air as she grew more agitated. “Just keep going. We aren’t going to have them distracted very much longer.”

“Okay, okay,” James said, “so basically here’s what you do.”

It took a few minutes, but once James had laid out the rules, Alex shook her head gently.

“It only works for the three of us because we all agree to play. We’ve all agreed to play for years now. It’s more of a pleasentry anyway. Spencer’s too smart, he’ll see right through us.”

“I don’t know,” Hotch said, “Spencer is really competitive. And, he’s nine. He’ll probably miss the part where it’s only sort-of a game-”

“Hey!”

“And he’ll think he can trick us.”

“Or he’ll think he’s smarter than us,” Emily said, “He already does most of my homework. There’s no way he’ll be willing to admit we can outsmart him. And he’s been saying he’s fine for days, it’ll be easy to get him to say it again.”

They all looked to Alex, and after a moment she nodded, fiddling with the bow that had started to slip out of her hair.

“Okay. We can try, but if this doesn’t work, you all need to figure out another way to get him to admit he feels terrible. I don’t want this to end with a meltdown.”

James grinned, squeezing her upper arm gently, victory already in his eyes.

“Oh, this is going to work. You’ll see.”

“I don’t wanna watch Toy Story,” Spencer whined. His voice was raspy, as if it physically pained him to grumble about the offending Disney movie.

They’d only gotten the Baby Squad back ten minutes before, and Spencer was in full-grump mode. He had pouted when Alex suggested he cuddle with her on the couch, insisting that he “wasn’t a baby” and “I want to sit on the floor!”

That’s exactly where he was, back pressed against Dave's armchair. His blanket had been retrieved by Alex and was on the couch, but when Hotch had offered it to him he’d nearly taken the older boy’s head off. 

“It’s JJ’s turn to pick, and she wants to watch Toy Story,” Alex said patiently, frowning while looking at how pale he was under the harsh fluorescent lighting of the seventh floor lounge.

“But we watched Toy Story twenty three days ago!” He whined, louder than before. Dave noticeably winced at the sound.

A piece of popcorn flew across the room and hit Spencer just above his left eye. “Then when it’s your turn after JJ, don’t pick Toy Story,” Derek said, smirking just slightly at his own joke.

“But I don’t want to watch it at all!”

JJ rolled her eyes, but otherwise seemed unbothered by what was happening. She knew Spencer was sick. She knew the Big Kids would fix it. And she knew that Buzz and Woody didn’t really care about the grumbling nine year old behind her.

Hotch, however, raised an eyebrow, watching Spencer with new intensity.

He did genuinely look terrible. It wasn’t them being overprotective, or Emily being agitated. Spencer had been avoiding them all day, and now that they had a good look at him, it was easy to see why.

The baby of their group was as white as a sheet, save for the fever red flush across his cheeks. He was shaking too, though it was unsure if that was from the grumpy rage he was sending towards the TV, or because he was trembling as fever chills snaked up his spine. How the shadows under his eyes were so dark, considering he was out like a light when Hotch had found them sharing the older boy’s mattress, could be anyone’s guess.

There were probably things the others didn’t notice that James would, what with him so desperately and intentionally trying to become a doctor someday. That’s why James was the cornerstone of their plan. They just had to get all the right conditions. 

“Spencer,” Hotch warned gently as the younger boy whined about Toy Story for probably the seventeenth time, “You’re being rude. JJ is allowed to pick whatever she wants.”

“I’m not! Toy Story is a stupid pick! She picked it last time!”

Hotch sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. He turned to make eye contact with Alex, and when he nodded, she got up from her spot on the couch.

She quietly knelt next to Spencer, right at the foot of Dave’s chair, and spoke just a bit louder than she normally would when she was trying to calm him down.

“Baby, are you sure you don’t want to come sit on the couch?”

“I’m not a baby, Alex!” Spencer whined, like a baby. “I wanna sit here on the floor! Like everyone else! You aren’t bothering anyone else!”

She worried at her lip for a second before sighing, turning to face James, and finally nodding.

“Spencer…” She said even more gently, pressing further when James nodded back, and moving to push his bangs off of his forehead, “are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine!” He shrieked, trying to swat her hand away.

Bingo.

Alex backed off as James leaned forward from his position on the couch.

“Hey, Spence,” he said gently.

James had a totally different approach to Spencer than the rest of the Big Kids. Alex had agitated him, but when he turned to look at James, his body language softened. James was goofy and usually didn’t treat Spencer like a baby, so he was the perfect candidate for their pseudo-intervention.

“What?” Spencer asked, though his tone was still harsh. It wasn’t as aggressive as it had been with Alex, though, so James pressed on. 

“Do you want to play a game?”

There was a moment in which Spencer was quiet before his nose scrunched, squinting up at James with suspicion.

“I… I don’t…” He started, resolve almost cracking before any plan needed to be enacted at all. Then, there was a loud yell from the offending movie. Spencer sighed angrily, rubbing at his eyes fervently. “Anything is better than Toy Story.”

“Great,” James said evenly, “so you’ll play?”

“What game?”

The Big Kids seemed to collectively hold their breath, waiting for James to explain and hoping it wouldn’t all blow up in their faces.

Penelope and Derek had lost interest in the television, much more interested in what was going to happen now between Spencer and the Big Kids. JJ didn't seem to mind that no one else was watching, shoving handfuls of popcorn in her face and minding her own business as Woody and Buzz bantered back and forth.

"It's called I'm Fine,” James said simply.

Spencer squinted further, as if the glasses were doing nothing for him.

"That sounds stupid,” came his raspy whine, and Hotch audibly sighed.

Emily's eyes widened a bit, glancing to where Dave was sitting, and then to Penelope, who was swatting at JJ’s arm in an attempt to pry her attention away from the movie and onto the battle that was clearly unfolding right in their very lounge.

Alex's arms were crossed, lips pursed. She wore an expression that showed exactly how happy she was about the whole situation, and she was only going to be satisfied once it was all over and Spencer was cuddled in her arms. 

"You haven't heard the rules yet. It's... a brain game," James offered, not at all affected by Spencer's tone and demeanor. If anything, he seemed to soften more to it. 

Spencer shifted on the floor, clearly uncomfortable but not willing to move from his defiant choice.

"It is?"

"Sure. I'll tell you the rules and you can decide if you want to play me."

Now Spencer sat forward on his haunches.

"I'm gonna play you? In a brain game?" He sounded unimpressed as he rasped his skeptisism.

Dave snorted from behind Spencer, not trying very hard to mask his amusement, but James still sat, unphased, and simply nodded at the grumpy nine year old in front of him.

"Yeah, you're gonna play me in a brain game."

"Okay, I like winning. Tell me the rules."

James sat back a little, biding his time. He knew the longer he waited Spencer out, the more tired he would get, and the easier the game would be.

"Well, the game usually starts when someone says "I'm fine," after someone else asks if they're feeling okay." 

Spencer's eyes flashed with suspicion again.

"But I am fine."

"Right. That's what you said. So now, the game starts. Normally the person who asks if you're sick get's to play with you, and that's Alex, but I figured you'd maybe want to play with me instead. Is that what you want?"

Spencer looked up at Alex for a moment, seemingly weighing their intelligence against one another in his mushy, grumpy fever brain.

"I'd rather play you."

"You wanna play me?"

Spencer's eyebrows tugged together.

"I just said that."

"You have to say it officially. No take-backsies."

Spencer stared at him for a moment with the sort of incredible distaste that can only come from an ill child.

"That's stupid."

"Spencer. Rude," Hotch reprimanded gently, but James held a hand up.

"No, it's fine. Those are the rules, Spence, stupid or not."

Spencer rolled his eyes and sighed in a huff.

"Fine, yes, _James_ , I want to play you and not Alex."

James grinned, nodding and humming quietly.

"Great. So here's how we play. I get to guess up to five symptoms you might be having, you know, because I think you're feeling pretty crummy."

"I'm-"

"I know, you're fine. That's what you said, anyway. So I get to guess, and if I get three right, you have to give in, and let mama over there in on how you're really feeling."

Spencer seemed to deflate, arms crossing around his midsection, paling further if possible.

"But I'm... fine." He frowned, seeming to not quite understand what was going on.

"Right. So that's the other part. If I get three or more wrong, we'll all leave you alone. You're fine. We'll let you be."

James sat back fully on the couch now, done with his part. Now it was up to Spencer to take the bait.

All eyes were on the nine year old, even JJ's, as he fidgeted and rubbed at his eyes roughly. He finally looked up at James and said, "You have to get three?"

"Yep. More than half."

"And if I win... you'll all leave me alone?"

The question was clearly more directed at Alex and Hotch, his eyes even darting up to the older girl nervously. 

Alex nodded, head dipping towards James. 

"If you win, we'll all leave you alone. But if Jamie wins, you have to let go, baby," she said gently, words feather light on the top of the thick, tense air that now blanketed the room.

Spencer now narrowed his eyes not at James, but Alex.

"I'm not a baby," he said with an air of finality that would have been intimidating if it wasn't obvious now that he was most certainly trembling. 

"Great," James said, "ready to start?"

"Start?"

"Well, ready for me to guess, I guess."

James tilted his head in a way that was searching, but not confrontational. It took a minute, but Spencer gave the smallest nod.

Hotch, was quite frankly, amazed that Spencer was so competitive that he was about to let himself be called out. He also took a small moment to be thankful that Spencer was nine years old, and not fourteen, and that even though he was a genius, he really only had the processing power a nine year old's brain development could offer.

"Okay, so I'm going to guess that you have a fever, based on flush and shaking alone. If you don't, I’ll be more concerned, actually.”

When Spencer frowned and curled into himself slightly, eyes downcast, James offered a small smile. He shifted on the couch and patted the spot next to him. “You can come up here if you want.”

Spencer shook his head quickly, and then stopped with just as much force. Everything was too bright and the carpet was too scratchy on his fever-sensitive skin. He was cold, too, even though he was already wearing a sweater of Hotch's that absolutely dwarfed him. His stomach hurt and his head hurt and everything hurt and he just wanted to be held. 

But he wasn't a baby. They always treated him like a baby and he could handle himself just fine. He was fine.

He shut his eyes tightly, taking a deep breath before he spoke in a weak voice.

“No. I want… I want to be on the floor. I’m not a baby.”

“I’m not a baby, and I’m not on the floor,” Emily offered, and Spencer didn’t even open his eyes to respond.

“Emily, you can’t solve basic trigonometric functions, you _are_ a baby.” 

Derek masked his laughter by clearing his throat, and Penelope by shoving a handful of popcorn in her mouth, but Dave laughed at Emily’s annoyed glare openly. 

James didn't break stride for a second. "I'd also guess you've got a headache. You're rubbing at your eyes."

"I can't see well. I always rub at my eyes," Spencer whined defensively, though it was obvious some of his resolve was starting to crumble.

"Not like that, you don't," James said softly, "How am I doing?"

"I don't want to play anymore," the younger mumbled, tightening the arms he had wrapped around his midsection. It was an obvious attempt to self-soothe, and James shook his head gently.

"I'm going to say my first two guesses were right then."

There was quiet for a moment, everyone trying to decide what the next ten seconds would bring.

What happened was not what they expected. 

James got off the couch, moving so that he could sit down cross legged on the floor across from Spencer. He kept his posture open, mouth tugging into a gentle smile.

"Can I have my next guess?" He asked, gently tipping his finger under Spencer’s chin to bring his head up.

Spencer took a shaky breath and looked up to meet James's eyes. Slowly he nodded, eyes already beginning to well with tears.

James gestured to Spencer's arms tightly clasped around his midsection, eyes kind and voice gentle, as if he was apologizing.

"Your stomach’s sick, isn’t it?"

That did it. The tears in Spencer's eyes absolutely poured down his cheeks, a loud wail bubbling up from his chest as he let all the walls he'd tried to keep up crumble around him.

He flung himself not at Alex or Hotch, who were both now standing, ready to move. Instead, he flung himself into James. His thin arms latched around James's neck, face burying in his shoulder as his body was wracked with sobs.

James heard Alex hum behind him, surely wanting to comfort Spencer herself, but holding back. Spencer’s wails were choppy and gasping, those of a much younger child than even he was, and there was nothing the group of teenagers could do as they watched him fall to pieces in James’s arms. 

James appeared to be unphased. He simply gathered their youngest more securely against himself and stood up, careful to keep a defensive hold on the hysterical, and very warm child

"Shh, shh," he shushed quietly, falling to a slow rock-bounce he'd seen Alex perform before, one hand gently rubbing across Spencer's bony back. "It's okay, bud. I know.”

There was a moment in which no one moved or made a sound but James and Spencer. JJ had long since turned off her movie, and the fear of agitating Spencer’s meltdown was far too high for anyone to intervene. Alex, who was visibly upset as she watched her baby sob into someone else’s arms, moved to step in, but Hotch’s arm came up across her chest, his head shaking just slightly in order to dissuade her.

“You’re okay,” James was saying quietly, his voice barely audible under Spencer’s shuddering sobs.

He shifted his arms tighter around the child, glancing over to where Alex and Hotch were positioned. Hotch took a step closer.

“Do you want me to-” he started, but James shook his head, giving a weak smile.

“No, no it’s alright. We’re just going to go calm down.”

There was a beat in which he raised an eyebrow, clearly asking a kind of permission of Spencer’s surrogate parents. They both nodded quickly, watching with surprised expressions as James took even steps out of the lounge, Spencer wrapped around him tightly.

The silence continued for almost a minute before Derek said bluntly, “What the fuck was that?”

“I have no idea,” Penelope said, eyes still locked on the door.

“I do,” Emily said, flopping back on the couch and reaching for the popcorn bowl. “Spencer got his meltdown, and I’m Fine just became my favorite game. Give it, Jayje.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


James walked Spencer up and down the hallway for a while, letting him cry and wail himself hoarse while James held him close to his chest. He’d known Spencer hadn’t felt well for a few days, but Emily was right in saying that Spencer was sick all the time. He easily had the worst immune system of anyone James knew. If he’d known the meltdown coming was going to be _this_ catastrophic, he might have made an attempt to intervene sooner.

A few doors in the hallway opened, confused or annoyed faces glancing at James as Spencer cried on. They shut as soon as James set a laser-like glare on them, daring them to say something to either him, or his tiny charge.

“Okay, Spence, okay,” he said gently as soon as the crying lost its angry quality, only left sounding sick and sad and desperate. “Shh, okay kiddo. You’re okay.”

It took a moment for the cries to quiet, not dying entirely, but no longer rupturing his eardrums.

“There you go,” James cooed softly, hand still rubbing along Spencer’s back. He felt the shuttering turn back into trembling as his breathing evened back out. “Good, good job. Good job, Spence. Let’s get you in bed, okay?”

Spencer sluggishly nodded against James’s collarbone, the death grip around his neck slackening. James walked them down to Hotch’s room, knowing that the RA had his own bathroom. Spencer ended up in there a lot of nights anyway, he figured, so Hotch wouldn’t be mad. Hotch couldn’t be mad at Spencer if he tried. 

James only let go of Spencer once he set him down on Hotch’s bathroom counter, flicking on the light and taking a small step back to take in the boy in front of him.

There were tear tracks still running down Spencer’s face, which was a color between stark white and pale gray, save for the deepening flush across his cheeks, ears, and crawling down his neck. His eyes were swollen and red from the tears that still fell, even though they had slowed. He was shaking as chills overwhelmed his tiny frame, causing him to gasp quietly every so often.

James frowned with empathy. He hadn’t been _that_ sick since the flu season before, but it was a hard feeling to forget. Plus, he didn’t know if he’d seen Spencer look that awful in a while, either, and the shaking child in front of him was breaking his heart.

“Okay,” he said gently, “what do you say we get you out of your uniform and into… I can go get your pajamas, or, uh,” he thought for a moment, glancing out the door of the small bathroom and into the bedroom, still dark as he hadn’t thought to turn on the light. “I can find you one of Hotch’s shirts?”

Spencer’s hands palmed his eyes and he shook his head slowly.

“D’n le’ve,” he mumbled, his voice barely a whisper, eyes half-lidded. 

“Okay, then we’ll do that. Here, stop rubbing at your eyes. Let’s…”

He trailed off, never having been in Hotch’s bathroom, and not knowing what he was going to have to work with. He didn’t think about if Hotch would be upset with him rifling through the tiny medicine cabinet, or taking the washcloth on the counter to wet under the tap.

“Come here, kiddo,” he said gently, pulling Spencer towards him a bit as he gently wiped off the boy’s face, cleaning the tear tracks and hoping to do something immediate for the fever he felt climbing steadily just by being in close proximity again.

In time he got Spencer out of his uniform, into one of Hotch’s large cotton tee shirts, and nestled under the covers of the RA’s dark bedroom. James sat down on the edge of the bed, pressing a palm against Spencer’s forehead.

“So, can we talk about it?” He finally asked. Spencer curled into himself, pressed against James’s side.

“Do we ‘ave to?” he rasped, looking up with glassy eyes.

James nodded a bit, giving Spencer a gentle look. “Yeah, we do. I won, remember?”

Spencer cast his eyes down at the blankets, one hand twisting weakly at the fabric. He sighed before he said weakly, “I d’n feel good.”

James let out one small chuckle. “Yeah, I can see that. Can you be more specific for me?”

He squirmed. “D’n feel good _at all_.” Little hands twisted in fabric, big tears creating dark spots on the already dark pillowcase. “Since We’sday, I guess.”

James opened his mouth to prod again, but Spencer kept going, voice going in and out and squeaks and rasps in a way that would have been comical if it didn’t sound painful.

“M’ head ‘urts. ‘N my throat ‘n my stomach.”

“Sinuses?” James offered. Spencer was perpetually sniffling.

“No. S’a habit.”

“I know, just checking.”

“I…” he sighed, a sharp tremor shooting through his body and cutting him off in a whimper. “I feel… _wrong._ ”

James nodded, running his hand gently through Spencer’s short curls. It was the moments that Spencer let himself be vulnerable that James remembered just how young he was. Just how little, and fragile. How much help he really needed.

“I know, kiddo. I know.” He adjusted the washcloth that he’d laid on Spencer’s forehead, not missing the way Spencer leaned into the touch. He took the moment of vulnerability while he had it. “Can we make a deal?”

Spencer’s eyes had flitted closed, but he nodded gently. 

“Mhm.”

“I don’t really care if you tell Alex and Hotch when you don’t feel good. Really. I know how they can be, I get it. But I want you to tell me, okay? Maybe if it comes from me, it’ll soften the blow from them, huh?”

For a second, James thought Spencer had fallen asleep. He thought about getting out his phone and calling Alex. She was no doubt pacing the floor until she could gather Spencer in her arms. He reached for his pocket, but found his wrist being grabbed by weak, spindly fingers.

“‘Kay.” Spencer mumbled quietly, shifting so that he was closer to James, nearly in his lap. “Can… not yet.”

James read between the lines, moving his hand from his pocket and shifting back so that Spencer could lay between his legs, his tiny body curled in on itself, head resting just below James’s heart. 

It was at least an hour later when the door cracked open, two figures stood in the doorway: one tall and lanky, the other small and dainty. 

Hotch and Alex. 

Spencer was sleeping, body twitching and shivering ever so slightly as the fever worked its way through his system. James had been counting breaths, wondering when he should find a thermometer or call someone or shift from under the kid. He just hadn’t been able to bring himself to move him at all, even when one of his legs had been asleep at least twenty minutes.

“Hey,” he said quietly.

Alex moved quickly, perched on the edge of the bed in a moment.

“Hey.” She matched his level, eyes wide and worried as she looked at her sleeping boy. “I, um. Can I… I have Blankie.” She held up the blanket that was normally life or death. “I’m surprised he’s sleeping without it.”

“So was I, but you should have heard him in the hallway. Basically screamed himself to exhaustion.”

She shifted, looking down at her lap.

“Trust me,” she said, “I did.”

“Cry?” He asked, knowing her far too well.

“Course I did. Can I have him?”

James nodded quickly, the two of them moving in perfect sync to get Spencer off of James and into the arms of Alex. Spencer seemed to relax further in the arms of his assumed mother, then further still when James draped Blankie over the top of him. 

With Alex wrapped in her own world, a hand gently trailing through Spencer’s hair, eyes locked on his small frame, James found himself taking a step away. Letting them have their space. 

He turned to look at Hotch, who looked stressed in his own right. 

“Sorry I invaded your space,” James said quietly to the other boy, “I just thought, well, this is where he comes at night when something isn’t right.”

“No,” Hotch said, “I’m glad you did. I’ll keep him here tonight so I can watch him. He looks rough.”

“Yeah. I um, I found that washcloth in your bathroom, but I had no idea where anything else might be.”

Hotch shrugged. 

“Thermometer’s in the bedside table. We use it enough, you know, so I keep it close…” He tilted his head slightly while peering over at Spencer, a confused look passing over his face. “Is that my shirt?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“Please don’t apologize,” Hotch said quietly. His eyes didn’t move from Spencer. “I should be sorry. You didn’t have to do that. I… thank you for doing that. You were really good with him.”

James looked at Hotch a little closer, really seeing how tired the junior looked. He carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, and in the dark of the bedroom, it showed.

“Hotch, really? Of course. We’re all trying to keep this kid alive. You don’t have to carry it all.”

Hotch hummed, rubbing lightly at his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Yeah… yeah right.”

James clapped him on the shoulder gently, taking a deep breath of his own. His own eyes turned to watch the way Spencer seemed peaceful now. Sick, but peaceful. He would be alright. They’d take care of him.

“You okay?” Hotch asked.

James gave a humorless chuckle, nodding and glancing at Hotch with a very small smile on his face.

“Yeah,” he said, eyes looking less worried as they flicked back to Spencer. “Yeah, I’m fine.”


End file.
